


The Seer of Cavendish Square

by srmarybadass



Category: True Blood
Genre: M/M, badass!Pam, historific, terrible historical inaccuracies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-01-24
Updated: 2012-01-24
Packaged: 2017-10-30 02:04:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/326560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/srmarybadass/pseuds/srmarybadass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>London, 1905</i>. When Lady Pamela Ravenscroft meets two men whose minds she cannot read, she is surprised and suspicious. Soon she is drawn into a dark and dangerous underworld- just as a series of horrifying murders shocks London...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Proper Lady

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written and published to LJ in November 2009.

When Pamela Ravenscroft was six years old, she read her father’s mind.

 

Unfortunately, it was the day after he had had a certain indiscretion with their maid, and needless to say, Cynthia Ravenscroft had not been pleased when her young daughter had inquired as to why her father “had been fighting with the maid with no clothes on.” Once the family had gotten over the annoyance of adultery and the business of firing the maid, they took a minute to wonder how, exactly, little Pam had known. Then Pam had told them it was because she had heard her father thinking it.

 

Pamela Ravenscroft’s childhood was, to be sure, quite interesting.

 

As she grew older and gained at least some semblance of control over her “queer little mind,” as her father had put it, she was able to use it to help her family’s finances. The upper crust of London wondered in amazement at how Sir Richard Ravenscroft always seemed to know when a business partner was cheating him, even as they gossiped as to why the Lady Pamela never married. The years ticked by and all too soon she was past marriageable age. The gossip continued. Perhaps she was a man, or perhaps she was insane- or worse, a _Sapphist_. But the ever-growing finances of the Ravenscroft family kept their mouths shut and their purses open, and insured that Pamela would be able to live in comfort even if she never acquired a husband.

 

But here she was, the talk of the town at twenty-seven and unmarried.

 

“Lady Pamela!” the cheerful, high pitched voice of her maid came rollicking up the stairs. “Oh, Lady Pamela! My fair lady!”

 

“Fair is foul, and foul is fair,” Pam muttered quietly, shutting her leather-bound volume of Shakespeare. Then she spoke loud enough to be heard. “In here, Gertrude.”

 

The plump, cheerful maid bustled in before promptly dropping the armful of dresses she was carrying. “Why, you’re not even dressed yet!”

 

Pam sighed. “This may come as a surprise, but it is not my greatest wish to attend yet another society ball where I spend the entire evening listening to the minds of slack-brained noblemen and their sons as they slobber over me.”

 

“Well, this ball is in _your_ house, and your parents will be _most_ displeased if you choose instead to spend the time with Sir Shakespeare,” Gertrude replied, sorting through the pile of cloth. “Now- how about the green dress?”

 

Pam rolled her eyes as her mind automatically scanned Gertrude’s. The servant’s thoughts were like a bubbling stream- excited and happy, and a little anxious to get Pam ready, lest the elder Lord and Lady Ravenscroft blame her for the absence of their daughter.

 

“You know green makes me appear ill,” Pam informed her. “If I must be on display, I will be the best display there. The blue dress, I think, will do.”

 

 

“Eric, let me up.”

 

“No. I don’t want to.”

 

Godric sighed and tugged his arm away from his child. The past century he had grown in strength magnificently, although at the moment Godric wished he was still the trembling, newborn vampire he once was.

 

“We must get ready, or we will be late for the ball.”

 

“We don’t need to go,” Eric growled, stretching luxuriously in the large bed. “We could just lounge here the entire night.”

 

“We’ve been in bed the entire day, child,” Godric replied. “If we did the same for the night it would simply be laziness.”

 

“It’s not laziness,” Eric pouted. “Why, we haven’t even had any _fun_ yet.” With that, he licked Godric’s shoulder. “Mmm. You taste good.”

 

“I taste the same as I’ve tasted ever since the Industrial Revolution,” Godric informed him, using a little strength to toss Eric off him before pulling open the bed curtains. Their hired help had lit a few candles, giving the stone underground chamber a warm glow.

 

“These servants do know what they’re doing,” Eric commented, rolling out of bed as well.

 

“That’s the magic of glamour,” Godric replied. “Now- we must get you looking tasty for tonight’s ball. After all, I have it on good authority that there will be nearly a dozen young ladies with wealthy fathers of marriageable age.”

 

“You know you are all the woman I will ever need.”

 

Godric smiled, shooting a quick glance at the trunk where he stored his dresses and other feminine accoutrements.

 

“That may be, but I am not all the businessman you will ever need, and tonight will be an excellent night to make contacts. After all, we’ve barely been in London a month. Rumors about our associates in Paris will only get us so far.”

 

“All right, all right, you cobra,” Eric sighed, opening the closet. “Now, which suit?”

 

“Oh, the blue one. Definitely the blue one.”

 

 

Gertrude bustled anxiously around the room as Lady Pamela took her own sweet time buttoning up the intricate fastenings on her gown.

 

“Are you nearly ready? I can hear the guests arriving!”

 

“So can I,” Pam replied as she picked up the mental waves from two stories down. “Here, help me with my hair. I am not setting foot down there without it being perfect.”

 

“If you delay much longer, you will only be adding to the rumor that Lord Ravenscroft’s only child is a hermit,” Gertrude protested even as she picked up the hairbrush and began running it through Pam’s golden locks. “What hairpiece?”

 

“The orchid,” Pam replied, pointing to a glass-blown stylized flower. Her father had given it to her- along with a long lecture about the horrors of dying a spinster- on her twentieth birthday. Seven years later and Pam was still holding strong against the pressure to marry, and her parents only asked her about it a few times a year.

 

“Very well, my lady.”

 

 

The carriage was a relatively grand one, Eric and Godric having brought over plenty of money from Paris. Neither had wanted to leave, but they had been there for eleven years and people were growing suspicious that neither of them was showing the effects of age.

 

Godric leaned against Eric, careful not to wrinkle his fine evening suit as they listened to the _clop clop clop_ of their horses’ hooves against the cobblestones.

 

“Where are we headed again?” Eric inquired.

 

“Cavendish Square,” Godric explained.

 

Eric raised his eyebrows. “Hoity-toity.”

 

“And exactly the type of people we want to be associating ourselves with if we want our decade in London to be any fun.”

 

“I miss brothels,” Eric frowned. “I want to associate with some of _those_ people.”

 

“Make no mistake, Eric, we’re heading into a brothel just the same. People are still selling themselves and their friends for a tidy sum- only with pounds as opposed to shillings, and with more clothing.”

 

They rode in silence for the next several minutes, Eric breaking it only when they pulled up in front of the grand London townhouse.

 

“Kiss me,” he demanded.

 

Godric quirked an eyebrow. “Why? Scared that you’ll meet some high-class enchantress and be swept away by her unless I reaffirm my hold over you?”

 

“Oh, stuff it.”

 

“ _Mmmph!”_

 

Godric reluctantly removed his mouth from Eric’s when their footman opened the door.

 

“We have arrived at the Ravenscroft residence, my good sirs.”

 

“Thank you, Harry. Go off and attend the servant’s party, that’s a good boy. I know there’s one in the kitchen.”

 

“Thank you, sir.”

 

Eric glanced around. The house was large, brick, and relatively new- those were gas-lamps shining from the inside. His supernatural senses picked up the buzz and bustle of dozens of humans swirling around inside- dancing, eating, and otherwise trying to subtly claw their way to the top of the social pyramid. He shook his head- they thought _they_ were being manipulative, they should have been around for the Renaissance…

 

The enormous door swung open and the two were met by another footman in livery who inclined his head in a most respectful manner and asked to see their invitations. Godric showed them and the servant nodded with an expression of curiosity on his face- the two new arrivals were the talk of the town in London, and everyone who was anyone wanted to be the first to meet them. Well, here they were.

 

The music was the perfect level- loud enough to be heard, but not so much that it muted conversation. Eric and Godric threaded their way through the crowd- and that was the perfect size too, large enough to be enjoyable and thriving but not so much as to get lost in- for several minutes, favoring guests with a smile, a greeting, a compliment before moving to the next one, being sure to keep an air of mystery about them.

 

“Eric,” Godric whispered. “Eric, look up at the entrance stairs.”

 

The tallest man in the room turned and froze, looking at the vision in blue walking slowly down the stairs.

 

 

Pam inwardly steeled herself as she set foot on the entrance stairs. The ball below was bustling, and she knew all eyes in the room were on her.

 

_hear she’s practically a hermit_

_can’t believe she actually came tonight_

_prettier than I thought, her bank account’s not too shabby either…_

 

She swallowed and focused her mind, pulling up shields as best she could. This was why she avoided being in anyone’s company. All the time. If she had her way, she would spend the rest of her life on the third floor- preferably in the library…

 

“Ah, my lovely daughter!” Lord Richard Ravenscroft smiled, even as her mother cut her a dirty look for arriving late. “Doctor Jekyll here was just inquiring after your health.”

 

“As you can see, I am quite hale and hearty,” Pam replied, giving the good doctor a sharp nod. His mind was a bit murky, but he wasn’t slobbering after her body or her money in the _least_ , which shot him up in her esteem.

 

“That is always good to hear, madam,” Dr. Jekyll nodded.

 

“Come, Pamela dear, you must greet Mr. and Mrs. Preston,” Cynthia Ravenscroft steered her daughter away to greet the distinguished silver-haired couple, who were smiles on the outside but were thinking about their son’s opium habit at the same time. Pamela didn’t say anything, and she never would. It wasn’t her secret to tell- although if her father ever needed to borrow a sum of money from the good Mr. Preston, it was always nice to have a little ammunition on their side…

 

“And you must meet these gentlemen,” her mother whispered to her a moment later. “They’ve just come from Paris!”

 

Pam eyed them appraisingly. Both stood out amongst the crowd of Londoners- one because of his youth and the other for his soaring height and rebelliously long hair.

 

“My name is Godric Sparks, Lady Ravenscroft,” the smaller one introduced himself with a sweeping bow.

 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she carefully replied.

 

“And I am Eric Northman,” the tall blonde one grinned, kissing her hand like the gentlemen she suspected he wasn’t.

 

“Again, a pleasure,” Pam arched an eyebrow.

 

Mr. Northman arched an eyebrow back.

 

“What did you say your business was?” the elder Lady Ravenscroft inquired.

 

“Artifacts,” Mr. Sparks replied. “We buy, sell, and trade various artifacts and antiques. Speaking of which, that’s a lovely vase you had in your entranceway.”

 

“Thank you, it was from Italy,” her mother replied, before descending into a conversation about the vase and others like it with the young Mr. Sparks.

 

Automatically, Pam let her guard down a little bit to scan the minds of her father’s potential business partners.

 

Nothing.

 

_Odd_ , she thought, and let the shields down all the way.

 

Still nothing, although the thoughts of everyone else in the room had increased threefold in volume.

 

“Lady Ravenscroft, are you well? You look pale,” Mr. Northman commented, laying a gentle hand on her arm as if to steady her. Normally, the skin-to-skin contact would have allowed her to see into his thoughts- into anyone’s thoughts- as easily as looking through a window.

 

But there was only silence.

 

“I- well-” Pamela Ravenscroft stuttered before doing the only thing a shocked society lady could do in a situation such as that one.

 

She promptly fainted.


	2. A Clever Disguise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _London, 1905_. When Lady Pamela Ravenscroft meets two men whose minds she cannot read, she is surprised and suspicious. Soon she is drawn into a dark and dangerous underworld- just as a series of horrifying murders shocks London...

When Pamela Ravenscroft woke up, she was in her quiet room once more and someone had thoughtfully placed a cool cloth on her forehead.

 

“Gertrude?” she cried. “Gertrude?”

 

“Right here, my lady,” her maid replied, bustling into the room. “Are you feeling better?”

 

“What happened?”

 

“You fainted. Mr. Northman was kind enough to carry you upstairs. He’s quite the gentleman.”

 

“I just bet,” Pam murmured, sitting upright.

 

“Was it too noisy for you down there?”

 

“It’s wasn’t noisy enough.”

 

Gertrude, used to Pamela’s odd ways, shrugged. “Well, the house is all quiet now. The guests finished up the party and have all left by now, except for a few of your father’s friends who stayed to talk business.”

 

“Which ones? Does he need me down there?”

 

“Oh no, my lady, he asked that you rest,” the maid informed her. “He’s having a cigar with Mr. Preston, Doctor Jekyll, and…Sir Bardington, I believe.”

 

“Then we shall leave him to it,” Pam decided. “I am feeling rather hungry. Perhaps…?”

 

“I’ll get the leftovers straightaway, my lady.”

 

“Thank you, Gertrude.”

 

With that, Pam pulled out her worn copy of Shakespeare and settled down to read.

 

 

“Now, aren’t you glad we went tonight?” Godric smiled at his companion, who didn’t notice. “Eric? _Eric!”_

 

“Sorry, Godric,” he immediately apologize. “What were you saying?”

 

“I was saying, are you not glad we went tonight?”

 

Eric nodded, still in thought.

 

“What is on your mind? Out with it, child.”

 

“That woman.”

 

“The Lady Pamela?”

 

Eric nodded. “There was something….something about her.”

 

“I’m sure you’ve had more than your fair share of lovely women fainting into your arms,” Godric chuckled.

 

Eric shook his head frantically. “No, no, it wasn’t that.”

 

“Do you know what it was?”

 

“No…but I aim to find out.”

 

The next evening, Pam’s light supper was interrupted by her mother.

 

“Pam! Drop that bread and come with me. You have callers.”

 

Pam sighed. She thought that ten years was enough for the young bachelors of London to get the hint. Still, she put down her meal and dusted off her skirt- far simpler than her elaborate gown of the previous night, but she looked good in anything.

 

It was only a mild surprise to see both Mr. Northman and Mr. Sparks in her sitting-room. Both stood at her entrance.

 

“Good evening, Lady Ravenscroft,” Mr. Northman said, with a sweeping bow.

 

“We apologize for calling so late, but we had business all day,” Mr. Sparks explained.

 

“I am honored by your visit, gentlemen, late or not,” Pam said carefully, settling delicately on a chair. “Would you care for a refreshment- tea? Coffee? Perhaps something stronger?”

 

Mr. Northman shook his head. “We must regretfully decline your generous offer- we ate before we arrived.”

 

“We did not want to intrude on your hospitality any more than necessary,” his companion finished.

 

Pam nodded. “Well, I hope you are enjoying London so far?”

 

Mr. Northman nodded and smiled. “Very much so. The ball last night was actually our first in town, and if it was any indication of the rest of the society, we shall never lack entertainment or fine company.”

 

“I apologize for fainting on you, Mr. Northman. It’s not something I make a habit of.”

 

“On the contrary, it is a good thing you fainted on me rather than someone else who might be unable to carry you up the stairs,” Mr. Northman replied. “And that, in fact, was why we came tonight- to see if you had recovered sufficiently.”

 

“Well, I have, thank you for inquiring.” Pam shifted, disguising her nervousness as best she could. She _hated_ this, she hated this _so much_. She had no idea what they were thinking- and she didn’t know why. She was accustomed to having prior warning for everything, and very few things were surprises. This was one of them.

 

The trio was saved from awkward conversation by the arrival of her father.

 

“What are- oh! Why, good evening, Mr. Sparks, Mr. Northman! I trust my daughter is conversing sufficiently pleasantly?”

 

“She most certainly is,” Mr. Sparks replied. “My partner and I are glad to see that she is well after last night’s little incident.”

 

“Come, sit,” Pam gestured to one of the unoccupied chairs. “Let’s hear the headlines.”

 

Lord Richard Ravenscroft unrolled his newspaper and scanned the front page. “Well- the King is taking a trip to Germany, there is an upsurge of piracy in the West Indies, and…ah, there’s been quite the murder near South Bank.”

 

“Do tell,” Pam prompted her father, although she could see the newspaper page clearly in his mind.

 

“Well, they’re saying that she- it was a woman- was killed some time last night, and that her throat was rather brutally cut. When they found the body- floating in the Thames, of course- it was almost completely empty of blood.”

 

Mr. Sparks and Mr. Northman exchanged a look that Pam made sure to take note of.

 

“Lord Ravenscroft- should your daughter really be hearing about matters such as this?” Mr. Northman inquired.

 

“My Pamela is one of the most well-educated women in London, Mr. Northman,” he replied rather stiffly. “She reads the newspaper directly after me every morning and every evening, before discussing the contents at length. I have every faith that she can handle this.”

 

Mr. Northman inclined his head in surrender. Pam smirked.

 

After a few minutes discussing the stock market and the antiques trade, Mr. Northman stood, his companion quickly following.

“We hate having to take leave of your most enjoyable company, but I am afraid we will be late for yet another meeting if we do not.”

 

“No matter, gentlemen, I am quite familiar with _that_ situation,” Lord Ravenscroft replied, also standing, as did Pam. The men shook hands, and Mr. Northman kissed Pamela’s hand- _again_ \- before taking their leave, Pam’s suspicions going with them.

 

“Well, that was a lovely surprise,” her father said after the guests were gone. “And what are your plans for the evening, my lovely daughter? Your mother and I are making a call to the Troussants’ house, perhaps-”

 

“I think I shall stay here, father,” Pam quickly interrupted. “Perhaps research antiquities.”

 

Lord Ravenscroft grinned. “There’s a good girl.”

 

Pam _did_ research antiquities- at least until after her father had left. Then she slipped downstairs, took Mr. Northman’s calling card from the bowl, and memorized the address. Trepateir Square- barely a mile from her own house, and in a particularly upscale neighborhood. Several of her father’s friends lived there- the Prestons and Dr. Jekyll, she remembered. The gentlemen had brought plenty of money with them from Paris.

 

After finalizing her destination, she crept upstairs and opened her trunk, moving aside the piles of spare blankets and dislodging the false bottom. From there, she removed her most secret set of clothes- those of a young middle-class man, complete with a hat to tuck her hair under. She bound down her bosom- fortunately, it was smaller than fashion dictated- and pulled on the more comfortable clothes. Then, she reached down into the very bottom and pulled out a handgun. Just as she tucked it into her pocket, her mind picked up Gertrude walking into the room.

“Lady Pamela!” she gasped, almost dropping her basket of laundry. “What on _earth_ are you doing?”

 

“Oh, don’t act so surprised. You’ve seen me like this before.”

 

“Yes- but- are you going _out?_ ”

 

Pam nodded.

 

“ _Alone?”_

 

Another nod.

 

“At _night_? In _London?”_

 

“My mind is made up, Gertrude,” Pam said. “I…I must find out a few things.”

 

“It’s those gentlemen, isn’t it,” the maid deduced. “You can’t possibly go after them- your reputation will be absolutely _ruined!”_

 

“My reputation can’t get much worse,” Pam replied. “Think about it- everyone thinks I belong in a madhouse, or that I’m a Sapphist, or that I’m barren. There must be a dozen different theories by now.”

 

“But _is_ it those two? There’s something shifty about them-”

 

“I can’t hear them.”

 

Gertrude gaped, stunned into silence. “You mean- nothing? Nothing at all?”

 

“Nothing. Their minds are completely silent, and I aim to find out why.”

 

Gertrude nodded reluctantly. “Your parents won’t be back until very late, and I will tell them that you’re asleep and can’t be disturbed- you had a headache. And I will let you in the servant’s entrance- be back by dawn.”

 

Pam nodded before giving her surprised maid a quick hug. “Thank you, thank you so much.”

 

“This goes against my better judgment!” Gertrude hissed, but Pam was already out the door.

 

She would have preferred to take a horse, but that would have made her far too conspicuous. Instead, she hustled herself out the servant’s entrance, slipped across a few hedges, and hopped the first tram she saw, crouching low on the back to avoid detection.

 

She left the trolley when she was a quarter-mile from Trepateir Square, wanting to sneak up to the house silently. There were lights on at the entranceway, and in the servant’s quarters, and one on the top floor- a three-story house like hers.

 

That meant there was a cellar door on the side, for deliveries.

 

She slipped through the shadows, hat pulled low over her eyes. Pam located the cellar trapdoor rather quickly, and tugged at it. Locked, of course. She grinned and pulled out her hairpin, jimmying the relatively simple mechanism- just one of the many things she had learned, and straight out of a thief’s head to boot.

 

Just as she expected, she landed in a root cellar when she jumped in, her feet hitting the earth floor with a barely-audible thump. And just as she expected, there were stairs on the far side of the cellar, leading up to what she assumed was the kitchen. But she hadn’t expected the lack of contents in the cellar- it was completely empty. No food, no preserves, not even any mice.

 

She closed her eyes and reached out with her mind- and again, all was silent. Even her ears failed to pick up anything other than her own heartbeat. She looked up, making sure her exit route was clear, and then looked around. There! A second door.

 

She padded towards it before pressing her ear to the wood. Nothing, from any of her senses.

 

 _In for a penny, in for a pound,_ she thought, and gentle turned the handle. It opened.

 

She was mildly surprised when it opened on a small hallway- and not a mere tunnel, either. Oh no, this hallway had stone floors and walls and was gently lit by a few softly glowing gas lamps. At the end of this hallway, there was an ornately carved wooden door. She shouldn’t go open it, she shouldn’t, she _shouldn’t-_

 

She did.

 

Or rather, she attempted to, but the door was locked.

 

Huffing in annoyance, she scampered back to the cellar, thinking to make her way up the stairs, or perhaps to leave. Her luck could only hold out for so long…

 

Footsteps.

 

The luck had run out. Pam looked around frantically for a place to hide as she heard several pairs of feet coming down the stairs. She spotted a previously unnoticed cupboard- it looked to be about the size to store brooms- and ducked in, closing the door but for a crack to see through just as Eric and Godric came down the stairs.

 

“The Queen is getting angry,” Eric murmured to Godric.

 

“Not angry- afraid,” the younger man corrected as Pam tried to silence her breathing. Was that _blood_ on his collar?

 

“She’ll never show fear, but she will show anger if whoever is doing this isn’t stopped.”

 

“Do you think it is one of us?”

 

“It must be.”

 

“There is time later to worry about her orders, my child,” Godric purred, and Pam raised an eyebrow for her own benefit. _Child?_ “Let’s enjoy ourselves.”

 

A rustle of clothes brought her back to the present. She looked up to see Eric pressing Godric into the wall. It was hard to tell at her angle, but they appeared to be kissing. Passionately.

 

 _Homosexuals? Well, well._ Pam wasn’t overly fazed, seeing as she heard- and sometimes saw- every lustful thought and forbidden desire in men’s heads.

 

What Eric did next _did_ faze her.

 

She couldn’t see clearly at all, but Eric apparently whipped his head back and then- attached it to the side of Godric’s neck? Godric moaned suddenly, and Pam couldn’t hold in a gasp of surprise.

 

Eric froze, before straightening up and turning slowly, sniffing the air. He grinned, mouth bloody.

 

“Like what you see, Lady Ravenscroft?”

 

Several thoughts went through her head very quickly, but she figured she couldn’t dig herself a much deeper hole. She stepped out of the broom cupboard in as regal a manner as possible, sweeping her hat off her head and shaking her hair out.

 

“I think you have some explaining to do,” Eric began.

 

“On the contrary, I believe it is _you_ who should be explaining.”

 

“You were the one breaking into our house!”

 

“Well, you’re the homosexual ones.”

 

“We’re not homosexual!” Godric protested.

 

“Of _course_ you aren’t.”

 

“You know, Godric, maybe she’s right,” Eric turned to his companion and grinned. Suddenly, Pam could see glistening- fangs?. 

 

“Maybe we should…. _explain.”_

 

Eric hissed and started to move towards her, but the biggest adrenaline rush Pam had ever experienced sharpened her reflexes. In one smooth motion, she reached into her pocket, whipped out her handgun, and pulled the trigger.


	3. A Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _London, 1905_. When Lady Pamela Ravenscroft meets two men whose minds she cannot read, she is surprised and suspicious. Soon she is drawn into a dark and dangerous underworld- just as a series of horrifying murders shocks London...

The vampires reacted very, very quickly.

 

 

“Out the back!” Eric ordered, and everyone was up on their feet.

 

 

“Eric, take Pam home,” Godric said.

 

“But you-”

 

“-will go with the Queen. Met me at her residence.”

 

 

Eric nodded. “My lady Pamela, I fear you must come with me. The locked door will not keep out the law enforcement for long. They sound quite determined.”

 

 

“What about Gertrude?” Pam asked.

 

 

“Marian, take the servants out through the tunnel!” Eric shouted in reply. Marian nodded and flashed off to the kitchen. “Pam, she will get home safely. You must come with me, please.”

 

 

Pam nodded, following Eric through the house and out through the back door, which opened into a small courtyard.

 

 

“How do you propose we get out of here?” she inquired.

 

 

“Pardon my forwardness,” Eric warned her, before literally sweeping off her feet. “And we will be flying.”

 

“What the-”

 

 

“Hold on tight, my lady!” With that, Eric zoomed off the ground and up into the sky.

 

 

Pam yelped, understandably, but managed not to faint. “Well, you certainly do keep surprising me, Mr. Northman.”

 

 

“I think, given the circumstances, you may call me Eric.”

 

 

“Very well, then, Eric. Can you do anything else I should know about? Does the sun rise and set at your will? Do flowers spring up in your footprints? Can you walk on water?”

 

 

Eric laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that Pam could feel due to her close proximity to the vampire’s chest. “No, no. Inhuman strength and speed, the ability to hypnotize the majority of the population, and flying mostly cover it. Other than that, I’m just like everyone else.”

 

 

Pam giggled, but it was cut off when Eric landed them gently in her courtyard.

 

 

“Is there anyone at home?” he inquired.

 

 

Pam nodded. “Most of the servants will be- except for Gertrude, you said she was making her way here?”

 

 

Eric nodded. “And your parents?”

 

 

“Out for the evening, and they may not be back until tomorrow. Their party was across town completely.”

 

 

“Then good night, Lady Ravenscroft.”

 

 

Pam arched an eyebrow. “What did I say?”

 

 

“Ah- good night, Pam.”

 

 

With that, Eric took off into the air once more, leaving a rather confused and worried Pamela Ravenscroft standing in her courtyard.

 

 

She walked upstairs quickly and went about the business of getting herself ready for bed. Pam brushed out her hair and put on a nightgown, going over the events of the night in her head. A rap at the window broke her out of her reverie.

 

 

 _“Good Lord!”_ she yelped, clutching her chest and wheezing. “You startled me!”

 

 

“Let us in, Pam,” Godric said, voice urgent. “Please. It’s very important.”

 

 

“Well, do come in.” She opened the large window to let both vampires into her bedroom. They looked- not happy. She immediately sensed that something was wrong.

 

 

“What is it? What’s happened?” she asked. “Speak!”

 

 

“When Marian went to get the servants, Gertrude wasn’t there,” Godric began. “The other servants say that she went out for a minute- to get some air, they said- and then didn’t come back in.”

 

 

“Nobody thought to _look_ for her?” Pam shrieked.

 

 

“They heard no screams,” Eric replied. “They had no reason to believe anyone was wrong.”

 

 

“Perhaps nothing is wrong,” Godric postulated. “Perhaps she just went to a shop, or to meet someone?”

 

 

Pam shook her head. “No. No, she wouldn’t have left knowing that I could leave any moment.”

 

 

“Then it must have been someone who lured her away,” Eric suggested.

 

 

Pam bit her lip, trying to keep the terror at bay. Eric and Godric looked at each other, some sort of silent communication passing between them.

 

 

“I think I know how you might be able to find her,” Eric said slowly. Pam looked up, frantic. In response, Eric unsheathed his fangs and plunged them into his thumb, drawing just a drop of blood.

 

 

“Take it.”

 

 

“What? _Disgusting!”_

 

 

“I promise you, it is anything but,” Godric told her, quiet voice throbbing with urgency and nervous energy. “If you take it, it will enhance your…ability, and you might be able to feel Gertrude’s mind. If you don’t take it, she could be lost to you.”

 

 

“Like _hell_ ,” Pam snarled, grabbing Eric’s hand and angrily sucking off the drop of blood before she could get squeamish. Godric was right- it wasn’t too bad, and she felt the effect instantly. Pam felt taller, stronger, more _alive_ …and she could hear brains buzzing all about London.

 

 

“Focus,” Eric’s voice echoed off the walls of her mind, and she closed her eyes, shutting off all outside sensation. Narrowing her mind, she cast the net or her formidable power as wide as it would go- throughout all London, if it came to that. Sorting through the chattering brains, she became weightless, drifting among them, until she found a thought pattern that was terribly, wonderful familiar- there was her maid! Focusing in on that until she thought she might explode from the effort, she delved into the panicked thought-stream.

 

 

Gasping, Pam’s eyes flew open. Eric and Godric were crouched in front of her, concerned.

 

 

“South Bank,” she said shakily. “She’s at South Bank.”

 

 

“What’s she doing there?” Eric inquired.

 

 

“I don’t know,” Pam said, standing. “But she’s scared.”

 

 

“Eric and I will go fetch her straightaway,” Godric reassured her.

 

 

“Hell no, I’m coming with you,” Pam said, pulling on her trousers. “She’s _my_ friend.”

 

 

“Eric will fly you, then,” Godric informed them.

 

 

“You can’t fly?” Pam asked offhandedly, tucking her pistol into her inside pocket.

 

 

Godric shook his head. “Off you go, then.”

 

 

Eric swept Pam into his arms once more and jumped out the window.

 

 

“Mr. Northman, I do believe you are taking a few too many liberties with my person,” Pam commented, hiding her fear behind sarcasm.

 

 

“I am most sorry for any mistreatment, Lady Ravenscroft,” Eric replied, soaring over the smokestacks of London. “After this is all over, I will be certain to make it up to you.”

 

 

“I’m expecting a marriage proposal.”

 

 

“Then you shall get one.”

 

 

A moment later- the vampire flew so fast- they arrived at South Bank. Eric touched down among the alleyways. This late at night, the only people about were thieves and drunkards, who wouldn’t take any notice of a floating man.

 

 

“When will Godric get here?” Pam asked, mind already seeking out her maid.

 

 

“Soon, he had to run,” Eric replied. “Do you sense her?”

 

 

Pam listened to the scrabble of rats and the creaking of doors and signs hanging over taverns. “Yes. This way!”

 

 

She ran down an alley, Eric following with ease. They turned another corner, and another, until they arrived in at an abandoned dock, surrounded by stacks and stacks of rotting crates.

 

 

_Help help don’t want to die here please God help_

 

 

Pam darted down one row of crates to see Gertrude, gagged and tied to a chair, eyes wild with fear.

 

 

“Gertrude!” Pam gasped, untying her bonds and loosening the gag. Gertrude began to babble the minute the cloth was out of her mouth.

 

 

“Please, my lady, no, no, it’s a trap, you’ve got to leave, he’ll kill-”

 

A high-pitched, unearthly scream erupted behind her, accompanied by a sickening hissing sound. Pam whirled to see Eric crumpled on the ground, a net of- silver, it looked like- burning into his skin. Before she could free him, a figure jumped down from one of the stacks.

 

“ _You,”_ Pam gasped.

 

 

“Good evening, Lady Ravenscroft,” Dr. Jekyll grinned. “A bit late to be out for a stroll, eh?”

 

 

Pam’s hand began to creep towards her gun. She kept her eye on the vicious, jagged knife in Dr. Jekyll’s hand.

 

 

“You killed those girls, didn’t you,” she said, desperately trying to distract him.

 

 

“Who would have suspected the good doctor, when there are demons such as _that-_ ” he gestured to Eric, “-running around?” He began walking towards her, and several things happened at once.

 

 

Gertrude screamed as Dr. Jekyll leapt forward as Pam pulled out her pistol and pulled the trigger. The shot went wild, however, and a blinding pain erupted in her chest as she looked down to see where the knife had plunged into her ribs. Less than a second after that, an angry and ancient war-cry sounded and Dr. Jekyll’s head became separated from his body rather quickly as everything began to grow dark around the edges of Pam’s vision. The last thing she saw as she crumpled to the damp cobblestones was Godric and Eric crouched above her, fangs out.

 

 

“Hold on,” Eric said. “Hold on, Pam.”

 

 

Everything went black.


	4. A New Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _London, 1905._ When Lady Pamela Ravenscroft meets two men whose minds she cannot read, she is surprised and suspicious. Soon she is drawn into a dark and dangerous underworld- just as a series of horrifying murders shocks London...

The first thing she heard, before she even opened her eyes, was the lapping of water. The second thing she heard was a quiet murmur of voices.

The first thing she thought was _Hmmm, I’m supposed to be dead, aren’t I._

She opened her eyes, just a slit, wincing at the soft glow of lantern-light. She was lying on what appeared to be a very soft bed in a small room- small, but well-decorated. The murmur of voices, she saw, was Eric and Godric, who were seated on another bed, kissing. Passionately. _Again_.

Pam watched them for a few minutes, her sense of propriety finally kicking in when Eric started to remove Godric’s shirt. She sat up and coughed to announce her presence.

“ _Pam!_ ” Eric yelped in a rather undignified fashion. “Er- I mean- you’re awake.”

“How long have I been out?” she asked. “And for that matter, where the hell am I?”

Eric and Godric looked at each other sideways, and Pam grew suspicious.

“ _Eric,_ ” she repeated more forcefully. “Where _am_ I?”

“We’re on a boat,” he began lightly. “Pam, are you…hungry?”

“What the hell are we doing on a boat?”

“Are you hungry?” Godric asked again. “Think about it for a minute.”

Pam thought about it, and suddenly realized that she was- she was starving, practically. She wanted to _feast_. “Yes. I suppose I could eat.”

Eric and Godric looked at each other again. She would really have to have a word with them about that.

“Let me go get your dinner,” Godric said, stepping out the door and returning a few minutes later with a very pretty young woman.

Pam arched an eyebrow. “They were out of chicken?”

“I don’t think you want chicken,” Eric began delicately. “Godric, would you?”

“I will,” Godric said, unsheathing his fangs and plunging them into the young woman’s neck. Pam yelped, but Godric stopped, pulling back and letting the blood flow out of the woman’s neck.

“Hungry now?” Eric asked gently.

“Of courth no-” Pam began, but stopped when her tongue hit something in her mouth that wasn’t supposed to be there. Two somethings. Sharp somethings. 

“Oh, Lord,” she began. “Oh, _Lord.”_

Eric passed her a hand mirror, and Pam examined her fangs carefully.

“I think they become you,” Godric offered delicately.

“Why don’t you have a drink, and then we’ll talk?” Eric proposed. 

Pam nodded. “How do I, uh…”

Godric pushed the woman, who seemed rather dazed- _glamour_ , she remembered Eric mentioning. “The knack should come naturally, I think.”

Awkwardly, Pam licked the nameless woman’s neck, and, _God_ , that was _good_. Mindlessly- but careful not to spill anything on her dress- she plunged her fangs into the woman’s jugular and drank, and drank, and drank, until she was filled and the woman was quite a bit woozy.

“Send her on her way, would you, Godric?” Eric asked as Pam patted the corners of her mouth with a handkerchief. Godric grinned and led the woman out of the room. Once Pam was sufficiently tidy, she turned to Eric.

“Where’s Gertrude?”

Eric laughed. “Perhaps we should start from where we left off.”

“You mean, me getting stabbed?”

Eric nodded. “Well, we sort of had to leave you there-”

“In the _alley_? By the _docks?_ ” Pam shrieked. 

“Well, it was after I had performed the change,” Eric explained.

Pam blinked. “So you made me a-”

“I’m your maker, yes.”

“Like…like Godric is your maker, right?”

Eric nodded.

“So he’s sort of…my de facto grandfather?”

Eric burst out laughing. “Yes, I suppose he is.”

“I am what?” Godric asked, entering the cabin.

“Pam’s de facto grandfather,” Eric informed him. Godric sat down next to Eric.

“Yes, Eric turned you right then and there, after you were stabbed,” Godric continued. “Gertrude made him- she’s quite the woman, your maid. I think Eric was rather afraid of her.”

“I was _not_ ,” Eric protested. 

“Anyway, after that you were- for all intents and purposes- dead to the world,” Godric continued. “We got rid of Dr. Jekyll’s body-”

“Rat fucker,” Pam mumbled. 

“-and we left yours there, because we really couldn’t think of any better way to have you discovered.”

“You were found by the police,” Eric picked up. “And taken to your home- given a grand, but quick, funeral. Lovely cemetery plot, it was on a nice hill, under a tree-”

“ _Then_ what?” Pam asked impatiently.

“Then I dug you up and we stole you away onto this boat.”

“In my _coffin_?”

“Of course not. We wrapped you in a rug.”

Pam groaned, thinking of all the indignities she had apparently suffered. Then, she thought of something else.

“My parents?”

“Believe you dead.”

Pam sighed and shrugged. It wasn’t as if they had been extraordinarily close. “And Gertrude?”

“Working for the Queen,” Godric grinned. 

“I’m going to assume you mean Estelle,” Pam said archly.

Godric nodded. “Gertrude informed us that she didn’t want to go back to the Ravenscroft household if it no longer contained the Lady Pamela, so we took her with us to meet the queen- she had seen too much, but we didn’t want to glamour her, she’s far too smart for that- and, well, I guess they took a liking to each other.”

“Estelle does need someone to restrain her occasionally,” Eric commented.

“Well, Gertrude is definitely the right woman for that job,” Pam nodded, happy that her maid- her closest friend- had at least ended up well. “So, the rules of being a vampire?”

“You can’t go into the sunlight, silver burns you, and you’re allergic to garlic,” Eric listed. “You’ll have to drink blood to survive, you have super strength and speed, can hypnotize people, and…” he looked at Godric.

“We had better check,” Godric agreed.

Pam was puzzled.

“Come up on deck,” Eric said, tugging her hand. Pam rose and followed.

“Wait- did you dress me in this? I think I died in trousers.”

Eric grinned and winked. “Well, I figured you wouldn’t want to wear the dress you were buried in.”

“How _improper.”_

“My utmost apologies, Lady Ravenscroft.”

“I don’t think I wish to be called Lady Ravenscroft anymore,” Pam said. “Lady Ravenscroft is dead. I’m…”

“Pamela Northman,” Eric nodded affirmatively. 

“Why can’t she be Pamela Sparks?” Godric protested.

“I’ll be Pamela Northman-Sparks,” Pam said, silencing the argument. After a moment’s considering, the gentlemen nodded.

Up on deck, the air was clear, and there were several people walking around, taking in the starlight. Pam was relatively familiar with the scent of salt air, but now that she was a vampire- a _vampire_ \- it was so much stronger. _Everything_ was so much stronger, so much _more_ …she could hear every creak of the ship, every splash of the sea, and it was _wonderful._

Because she heard it all with her ears.

“We aren’t on a ship full of vampires, are we?” Pam inquired delicately.

Eric shook his head. “Nope. We’re the only undead here.”

“You can’t…hear?” Godric asked.

Pam closed her eyes and listened, pushing her mind out as far as she could, but the only conversations she overheard came from people’s lips. She shook her head, grinning slowly.

“Nope. Peace and quiet…at _last_. At last, at last, at last.”

“So you don’t mind?” Eric checked.

“ _Mind?_ I’m a vampire!”

Eric and Godric both laughed at that. 

“Eric, you made an excellent choice,” Godric smiled. “I hope she will be as good a child to you as you have been to me.”

Eric, in the middle of the three, simple grinned quietly and took both their small hands in his large ones.

“So, where are we sailing to?” Pam asked, staring off into the night over the ship’s prow.

“America,” Eric answered.

 _America_.

It sounded like promise.


End file.
